


The Snake and the Rabbit

by crackernow



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 13:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17326076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackernow/pseuds/crackernow
Summary: A one-shot attempt at an alternative ending.





	The Snake and the Rabbit

Abigail stood alone in the Queen’s bedroom, waiting. She clicked her tongue in time with the grand clock in the corner, and tapped the toes of her cream-coloured button boots against the wooden floor. They had been a birthday gift from the Queen. Though they caused Abigail severe pain whenever she wore them, they were beautiful and she knew the Queen loved seeing them adorned on her feet, so she acknowledged the excruciating limping and blood-soaked stockings as a worthy sacrifice. As she tapped her feet, the sturdy soles created a chilling echo that shuddered against the walls, making everything she was about to do seem worse, if that were even possible.

It was necessary, she told herself with a shiver. It was necessary.

When agitation had started to get the better of her, she reminded herself that it was in her best interests to pause, to think, to plan.

 _Patience is for the predator; speed is for the prey._ She couldn’t remember where she’d heard that saying uttered before, perhaps it belonged to the rapist she was once married to. Nevertheless, it was true, and it chimed in her head like church bells on a Sunday morning.

She shifted to lean on her left foot to give her throbbing right one a rest and thought through her plan once more. She craned her neck to where the rabbit was, laying on his side, panting. She thought about every word she would speak, every small noise she might make, the tone she would use. She started to practice the fear and the relief she would act out when the Queen eventually turned up. It was foolproof, surely. As long as the Queen showed up soon; she was due back forty minutes ago. Everything Abigail had tried of late; all of the weak, measly attempts she had made to claw her way back to Anne’s side, had failed. This had to work.

It was all Sarah now, she thought with venom. Lady Marlborough was the favourite.

 

How had she let it happen?

A letter had passed by her without her knowledge several weeks previously, it had slipped through her fingers like silk. A letter from Lady Marlborough; delivered straight to the Queen’s limp hand by one of the new footman who didn’t know the primary rule. The rule that _everything_ addressed to the Queen should come to Abigail first.

‘Fucking idiot.’ Abigail whispered harshly under her breath, making some of the rabbits jump. Such a stupid mistake.

The letter, Abigail had read it afterwards, was written by Sarah’s hand and filled noble declarations, powerful sentiments and promises of intimate reunion. The Queen’s face lit up and she stood on both feet, unsupported for the first time in weeks.

‘What- what about the stolen money?’ Abigail said, wrestling with her desire to scream and shout and cast the letter into the fireplace.

‘Oh, to hell with the money.’ The Queen laughed dopily, one side of her face drooping and drool slopping out of her mouth. ‘Mrs Freeman returns!’

She did return. With more fire in her spirit, more vengeance in her heart and more contempt for Abigail than she had ever thought possible.

 

Abigail sighed and winced as she lifted one leg up, to ease the pain. She had to count her blessings. She was still allowed to see the Queen, near enough whenever she wanted. She was allowed to touch her, stroke her, and speak with her privately, when Sarah was away shooting or in Parliament. Though it wasn’t enough. She knew the Queen carried a renewed love for Sarah now. Mrs Morley’s beloved Mrs Freeman.

She was suddenly distracted by the sound of clattering in the hall. The wheels of Anne’s chair perhaps? They grew louder, the rhythm kept Abigail’s heart pounding with strong regularity. The door opened.

‘My Queen, I-’

‘What are you doing in here?’ An irritable voice chimed out, it did not belong to Anne.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

‘Lady Marlborough.’ Abigail lifted herself from the curtsey.

‘Kind of you to bow.’ Lady Marlborough said boldly, continuing her stride into the Queen’s bedroom. ‘You’re finally learning your place, it seems.’

‘You’re supposed to be riding.’ Abigail stated, ignoring Sarah’s snipe.

‘My horse is lame.’ She spoke as though every breath was wasted on Abigail.

‘Where is Anne?’

‘What?’ Lady Marlborough feigned surprise. ‘She didn’t tell her little puppy where she was going?’ She was smug, though she had every right to be. Her long, white coat draped smartly over her shoulders as she yanked her leather gloves from her fingers. ‘She is out.’

‘She is no state to go off... gallivanting.’ Abigail reasoned. ‘She is weak, she needs rest. She was meant to be back here-’

‘The Queen requested the company of the Prime Minister.’ Sarah rested her gloves on the back of a grand armchair and marched towards where Abigail was stood. ‘I’ll ask a final time, what are you doing in here?’

‘I-’ Abigail was stuck, like a cat sinking into a mud puddle, slowly drowning.

Sarah’s gaze was fierce and the scar on her cheek seemed to pulse with bloody anger.

‘I came to check on the children.’ Abigail said brightly, setting her plan onto a new path. She gestured towards the rabbits while Sarah sneered with doubt. ‘Hector doesn’t seem his normal self.’ Abigail continued. ‘He seems out of sorts. Not as hoppy as usual, and he normally bites my fingers and he hasn’t today.’

‘That is a shame.’ Sarah said, pouring thick plum wine into a crystal glass.

‘I know the Queen would hate to see him so poorly.’ Abigail took a few steps back, pain shooting up through the back of her calves. She was having to think quickly, strategically. Sarah was never supposed to be here, the stupid poison was working too quickly and the stupid rabbit was already deteriorating quite rapidly. He was running out of time; they both were.

‘I thought I might run and gather some herbs for him.’ Abigail said, knowing the herbs were already fully ground, sitting in a tin in her pocket, waiting to be smeared inside the rabbit’s cheek, to drag him back to health.

‘It is getting quite dark Abigail; you might fall and snap your neck.’ Sarah’s words were casual, she set her glass down slowly. ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea.’

Abigail smiled sweetly and turned back to the wheezing rabbit. He needed the antidote soon, or he would be dead. I could save him now, but what use would that be? The Queen _needed_ to be there. To see her save him.

I could run out now, Abigail thought. I wouldn’t get as far as the woods of course, but I could linger. Perhaps I’d run into the Queen. And even if I didn’t get back in time to save the wretched rabbit, Sarah would be there with the dead one. She would face the wrath. She might even be accused of its murder.

‘I think I will go then.’ She said, feeling dizzy. She paced towards the door, careful to avoid stepping near Lady Marlborough, who said nothing as she left.

 

It was dark. The grounds were eerily quiet and Abigail had been gone too long. She had made the decision to let the rabbit die. The mere fact she had gone out to source a cure would be enough. The Queen would respond to her instant sympathy with great need and dependence, as Sarah would provide no comfort whatsoever. It was cruel, but it had to happen.

She could hear Anne wailing before she’d even reached the top step. Loud cries and yells emitting from the bedroom. The heat of excitement and anticipation burned in Abigail’s stomach, she wondered if Lady Marlborough had already been cast away for being too callous. As she pushed the door, confusion covered Abigail like a thick blanket of snow; the Queen was laughing.

‘Oh Abigail, look- look what Sarah has done.’ She said, unable to grin properly because of the stroke. Hector was sitting in her good arm, spritely and full of life. ‘He was so unwell, the poor chap but look! She saved him.’

Abigail dragged her focus to where Lady Marlborough was stood. Her coat was off now, thrown over the ruffled bed, her blouse sleeves rolled up to the elbows and her stare filled with scorn.

‘That’s- that’s wonderful.’ Abigail mumbled, feeling the swell of a hard rock in the back of her throat. ‘Truly wonderful.’

‘Isn’t it a miracle?’ Sarah said, her head slightly tilted. ‘Hector was incredibly lucky.’

‘I- I noticed he was ill earlier.’ Abigail took small steps into the bedroom, the paintings on the walls seemed to be staring down at her. They knew what she had done. ‘I went out to find some remedy for him... from the forest.’

‘Oh no need, no need my dear.’ The Queen said, wiping her cheeks. ‘Sarah saved him. My little boy, my third youngest. He’s all better now, isn’t he? Aren’t you?’ The Queen looked up at Lady Marlborough with a youthful joy. ‘I want to take him for a little walk. He deserves it, don’t you think?’

‘Absolutely he does.’ Sarah responded with a genuine kindness.

Abigail tried to swallow, but she couldn’t. This had all gone horribly wrong. How? How had Sarah saved him? She was rooted to the spot, dumbfounded while the Queen was wheeled to the door by Sarah, then a footman took over.

‘Aren’t you coming Sarah?’ The Queen asked.

‘I have to share a word with Abigail. I won’t be a minute.’

‘Oh very well.’ The Queen said dreamily. ‘Come along Hector.’ She continued talking to him long after Lady Marlborough had closed the doors behind her. Her happy mutters could be heard flitting in the corridor outside.

‘How wonderful that you-’ Abigail started to speak, but she was interrupted by a thwack to her jaw. That wasn’t a slap, she felt bones clash in that hit.

‘You little cunt.’ Sarah hissed, though Abigail could barely hear over the ringing in her ears. ‘You little cunt.’ She hit Abigail again, this time her knuckles making contact with the back of Abigail’s head.

‘I don’t know what you’re-’

‘Don’t play me.’ Lady Marlborough’s voice was low, husky and filled with fury. ‘I should have you hung, drawn and quartered.’

There was a short period of silence, when only the Queen’s jovial shrieks could be heard.

‘I only have two regrets in my life.’ Lady Marlborough continued. ‘And one of them is that I didn’t let you rot in pig shit when you first turned up here.’

Abigail thought about her situation; Sarah didn’t like liars and her curiosity was getting the better of her.

‘How did you do it?’ She muttered, tasting her own blood on her tongue.

Sarah’s face was in front of hers now, leering down at her; she could smell the wine clinging to her breath. ‘That rabbit was laying in a puddle of vomit that smelled peculiarly familiar. I wondered on it. Where had I smelt it before? Then I remembered. It smelled like a bucket sitting in a brothel, coated in my bloody vomit.’

‘So you had the anti-’

‘You think I don’t carry around more than a pistol for my protection?' Lady Marlborough scoffed. 'You’re even more stupid than you look.’ She took a step back and breathed through her nostrils so they flared slightly. A pink tinge had struck her taut cheekbones. ‘You must carry anti-venom at all times if you are dealing with snakes.’ She spat, before leaving Abigail in a bruised stupor.


End file.
